As veteran readers of this blog know, I am married. I have been married for 22 years as of two weeks ago. For those of you who don't do math, that means we married in 1993.
I don't write much about Wife (she knows that this is how I refer to her in this blog, and approves.) She is a very private person. Sounds kind of weird, doesn't it? I bare my soul in my writing, and she is so private. But we are different in so many ways... but the same in so many.
So tonight, I'm going to write a little bit about her. Because I miss her terribly late at night. Like now. (Nearly midnight.)
I am going to write about shared adventures.
When we first started dating in 1991, a coworker of mine at TGI Fridays named Joe had a graduation party. He lived in a very rich suburb of Washington DC, as he father invented a very important piece of military equipment. Oh and he's the direct descendant of a well known Civil War general. In any case, Wife and I had been dating three months at this point when we drove down to this party. On the way down, no matter what station we tuned to one the radio, the Steve Miller Band popped up. It got downright spooky. So we get there, and put our gift to Joe on the table: a bottle of Absolut Vodka... just like the four other bottles others had bought him (he ONLY drank Absolut.) So Joe proceeded to make pitchers of Absolut screwdrivers. And what did he put on his CD player? Steve Miller Band Greatest hits. Really. So we all played drinking games, maybe eight of us, drinking strong Absolut screwdrivers. To this day, when we hear Steve Miller Band, Wife and I say "Absolut Screwdrivers."
That may sound mundane, but it's a shared experience. And she and I have had many shared experiences in our 24 years together. We've taken two road trips to Virginia to tour Civil War battle sites, doing so with no plans for hotel rooms. We played it by ear. And it was a blast. So many trips we've taken together- many with work. We've been to Los Angeles together (twice), and driven up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco. Canada. A road trip south to Charleston, SC. Road trips to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for Gen Con back when it was there. Boston for a convention.
Then there was trip to Penn State in 1992. My fraternity had an annual toga party the last weekend in April every year. It was THE social event of the year, and we pulled out all the stops. In 1992, I took Wife with me. We got a room together at the nearby Days Inn, and on Toga morning, I was there all dressed in a bed sheet. Wife went to get something to eat. A couple of hours later, she came to the party, and drank some French 75s (a champagne drink that was always served at toga). Wife is a very thin woman, and isn't a drinker by any stretch. She also had only eaten a brownie for breakfast. So she got REALLY drunk. I took her back to the hotel room around one PM where she slept the rest of the day. What she didn't know is that with me I had, in my pocket, an engagement ring, which I intended to give her at the Nittany Lion Shrine. Nope. She was wrecked. And she slept the day, and night, away. The next day, she was very hungover on the trip home. I insisted that we go to Valley Forge Park, and I drove there over her objections (she just wanted to go home.) But at VF Park, I got on one knee and proposed. And her hangover mysteriously disappeared.
But our Greatest Adventure started around eight years ago, when she told me she was pregnant. And the following October, our Daughter was born. She desperately wanted children. I didn't- I knew what was lurking in my soul and didn't want to have that responsibility. But we had Daughter, and I couldn't be more proud. Our daughter can be a handful (she gets it from me) as she is quite spirited. However she is a good kid- an amazing artist and so very curious. I still can't believe she's mine.
Now Wife and I are both in our late forties. Gray has begun to speckle her dark brown hair, but her blue eyes are still mischievous and filled with life. A wise man told me on my wedding day to look at her, and that she would become more beautiful every day from that day forward. And he was so right.
I love my Wife. And I know she loves me. How do I know? She loves me enough to allow me to transition. She saw the Pain I was enduring, and couldn't stand to see me suffer. But she doesn't want to be married to a woman, so where does that leave us?
Separated.
On the path to a probable divorce. As veteran readers know, when I told her about being TG, she said that if I ever got the surgery, she'd divorce me. And she meant it.
But on late nights like this, while she sleeps miles away in the bed we shared, I miss her horribly. I Cry.
Sunday is Mother's Day. And I have no idea what to give her... or if she'll even accept a gift from me.
So I'll probably end up just sending her love from afar. I work that day, so I probably won't see her. And besides, she'll probably take her mother out somewhere, which means I won't be welcome. That's fine- I understand that. And I understand how she feels about the Transition.
But I still love her.
And so I cry. And I write. About her.
Happy Mother's Day.
I don't write much about Wife (she knows that this is how I refer to her in this blog, and approves.) She is a very private person. Sounds kind of weird, doesn't it? I bare my soul in my writing, and she is so private. But we are different in so many ways... but the same in so many.
So tonight, I'm going to write a little bit about her. Because I miss her terribly late at night. Like now. (Nearly midnight.)
I am going to write about shared adventures.
When we first started dating in 1991, a coworker of mine at TGI Fridays named Joe had a graduation party. He lived in a very rich suburb of Washington DC, as he father invented a very important piece of military equipment. Oh and he's the direct descendant of a well known Civil War general. In any case, Wife and I had been dating three months at this point when we drove down to this party. On the way down, no matter what station we tuned to one the radio, the Steve Miller Band popped up. It got downright spooky. So we get there, and put our gift to Joe on the table: a bottle of Absolut Vodka... just like the four other bottles others had bought him (he ONLY drank Absolut.) So Joe proceeded to make pitchers of Absolut screwdrivers. And what did he put on his CD player? Steve Miller Band Greatest hits. Really. So we all played drinking games, maybe eight of us, drinking strong Absolut screwdrivers. To this day, when we hear Steve Miller Band, Wife and I say "Absolut Screwdrivers."
That may sound mundane, but it's a shared experience. And she and I have had many shared experiences in our 24 years together. We've taken two road trips to Virginia to tour Civil War battle sites, doing so with no plans for hotel rooms. We played it by ear. And it was a blast. So many trips we've taken together- many with work. We've been to Los Angeles together (twice), and driven up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco. Canada. A road trip south to Charleston, SC. Road trips to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for Gen Con back when it was there. Boston for a convention.
The Shrine, 2011
Then there was trip to Penn State in 1992. My fraternity had an annual toga party the last weekend in April every year. It was THE social event of the year, and we pulled out all the stops. In 1992, I took Wife with me. We got a room together at the nearby Days Inn, and on Toga morning, I was there all dressed in a bed sheet. Wife went to get something to eat. A couple of hours later, she came to the party, and drank some French 75s (a champagne drink that was always served at toga). Wife is a very thin woman, and isn't a drinker by any stretch. She also had only eaten a brownie for breakfast. So she got REALLY drunk. I took her back to the hotel room around one PM where she slept the rest of the day. What she didn't know is that with me I had, in my pocket, an engagement ring, which I intended to give her at the Nittany Lion Shrine. Nope. She was wrecked. And she slept the day, and night, away. The next day, she was very hungover on the trip home. I insisted that we go to Valley Forge Park, and I drove there over her objections (she just wanted to go home.) But at VF Park, I got on one knee and proposed. And her hangover mysteriously disappeared.
But our Greatest Adventure started around eight years ago, when she told me she was pregnant. And the following October, our Daughter was born. She desperately wanted children. I didn't- I knew what was lurking in my soul and didn't want to have that responsibility. But we had Daughter, and I couldn't be more proud. Our daughter can be a handful (she gets it from me) as she is quite spirited. However she is a good kid- an amazing artist and so very curious. I still can't believe she's mine.
Now Wife and I are both in our late forties. Gray has begun to speckle her dark brown hair, but her blue eyes are still mischievous and filled with life. A wise man told me on my wedding day to look at her, and that she would become more beautiful every day from that day forward. And he was so right.
I love my Wife. And I know she loves me. How do I know? She loves me enough to allow me to transition. She saw the Pain I was enduring, and couldn't stand to see me suffer. But she doesn't want to be married to a woman, so where does that leave us?
Separated.
On the path to a probable divorce. As veteran readers know, when I told her about being TG, she said that if I ever got the surgery, she'd divorce me. And she meant it.
But on late nights like this, while she sleeps miles away in the bed we shared, I miss her horribly. I Cry.
Sunday is Mother's Day. And I have no idea what to give her... or if she'll even accept a gift from me.
So I'll probably end up just sending her love from afar. I work that day, so I probably won't see her. And besides, she'll probably take her mother out somewhere, which means I won't be welcome. That's fine- I understand that. And I understand how she feels about the Transition.
But I still love her.
And so I cry. And I write. About her.
Happy Mother's Day.
Awe . . .
ReplyDeleteSophie -
ReplyDeleteLove can be so frustrating!!!! It must be very hard for you to be away from the two people you care for most this weekend.....
Hopefully, you'll find a happier medium soon.
M
Sophie:
ReplyDeleteYou're describing the loss that we feel when we lose a life partner. My HS sweetheart became my wife of 34 years before dying a few years back. I have the same type of memories (and tears) from the loss.
I know you will find a way to stay always in their lives. You and your wife can still reminisce the shared memories, which you'll both continue to cherish. Call her and wish her a happy Mother's Day.
Best,
Rhonda